


Pretty

by bactaqueen



Category: AFI, Rancid
Genre: M/M, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 01:42:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2292281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bactaqueen/pseuds/bactaqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim, Davey, two heart breaks, new hair, and a new piercing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people or events is entirely coincidental. 
> 
> Author's Note: Originally posted October 2006.

It had been a while since Tim had seen Davey, and even if he’d seen pictures or some of those TV appearances, he hadn’t been able to fully appreciate the new length.   
  
“It looks good,” Tim said, and there was a sort of soft wistful look in his eyes when he touched Davey’s hair.  
  
Davey smiled shyly, trying to hide his worry. “Thanks.” There were a thousand things he wanted to say, a million apologies he wanted to give, but the words all died on his tongue. So he stood there and he didn’t move and he let Tim run his rough fingers through his hair.   
  
Someone banged on the door. Smith screamed, “Five minutes!” into the dressing room, and then he was gone.   
  
Davey jumped, startled. He laughed nervously. To Tim, he said, “I guess I need to finish getting ready.” What he wanted to say was, “I’ll take you away, Timmy. I’ll kill the pain.”  
  
Tim grunted. “Yeah.” He dropped his hand and stepped back. “Pretty doesn’t make itself, right?” And the corner of his mouth went up. It was almost a smile. Almost.   
  
Davey smiled, anyway. “No way.” And he met Tim’s eyes, briefly, before he turned.   
  
Two steps. Two steps toward the vanity, and the old Tim was back. Davey felt the fingers through his hair, felt the palm on his scalp. And then Tim clenched his fingers and twisted, and Davey’s eyes closed and he hissed pleasurably at the pain. Tim dug his short nails into his scalp and hauled him back by his hair until Davey felt every inch of Tim against his back.   
  
The belt it had taken Davey forever to get buckled, Tim ripped open in half a second. The pants Davey had spent ten minutes pouring himself into, Tim tore into without hesitation. Davey’s cock rose for Tim, just for him, just like it always did. And Tim wrapped his warm hand around it and squeezed. He flicked the new piercing with his thumb and grunted into Davey’s hair.   
  
“Not fucking her anymore. Guess you can get away with it now, huh?”  
  
Davey turned his face away.   
  
Tim cupped his balls, squeezed so hard that Davey let the tears slip down his face. Davey whimpered. Tim always made it hurt. Always made it hurt so much he forgot all the other pain.   
  
“You’ll be hard again by the time you get on stage,” Tim whispered in his ear. He licked Davey’s tears away, rolled the salt on his tongue. He gripped Davey’s cock and didn’t stroke, he jerked. Hard.   
  
Davey wanted to scream; it felt like Tim was going to rip his dick off, tear the piercing out. But it felt so good. The pain fired all those synapses he’d been missing since…  
  
Tim grunted in his ear. “If you don’t come, I’m gonna send you out there like this.” He tightened his grip in Davey’s hair and yanked. “Come, kid. Been so long since I saw it.”   
  
Davey’s eyes shot open. He saw himself in the mirror, saw Tim’s head bowed over his shoulder and felt the hot wet suction of his mouth, saw Tim’s hand on his cock and felt the punishing pull and grip of his hand.   
  
“Oh, God,” he said, and squeezed his eyes shut and came all over Tim’s hand and his mesh shirt and the shiny vinyl pants.   
  
Tim kept stroking until Davey was soft. He didn’t tuck him back into his pants, though, just pulled his hand away and released Davey’s hair and took a step back. He wiped his hand down the side of his pants and fumbled for a cigarette.   
  
“Get pretty,” he said, and turned away. “Show’s about to start.”  


End file.
